


si sibi restituta essem

by aelbereth



Series: 19th century lesbian indulgence [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Epistolary, F/F, Original Character(s), fluff and exposition, period-typical italics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-01-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22298416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aelbereth/pseuds/aelbereth
Summary: ...did not our Lord sup with dishonourable women? Do the two of us fit that description?an impassioned reply.
Series: 19th century lesbian indulgence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1605028
Kudos: 1





	si sibi restituta essem

**Author's Note:**

> H replies, and we have a name!
> 
> title from catullus 36, lightly edited-- _"if i were restored to her"_

A--

You should be glad I am sending you a reply at all after a letter like that. You made me blush like a schoolboy! No, thankfully I was not in anyone's _company_ when I read it, but just imagine if I had been and someone--Mme S--, probably--had looked over my shoulder! You are a naughty girl and ought to write in code. To set a good example for you I shall fill my letter with the most boring of pleasantries, such as--How is the professor? Is his rheumatism acting up? I do hope he becomes too ill to continue the tour, and you must return home immediately, and then he gets better as soon as you two are back in the city and never again drags you away from me.

Oh, dearest, what a terribly wicked thing I have written. Now if his condition worsens I shall know I have _cursed_ him! But I will not redact it, because I know you will laugh and I don't want to waste a sheet of paper. I know you don't mind crumpling up a letter and starting again, but I don't consider my prose as you do in these sorts of writings; for who shall see it but you, and you have heard all my ramblings and still choose to live with me!

I can imagine your face as you read over that last bit. 

_\--Hélène_ , you are thinking, 

_\--don't deprecate yourself so. You are the best singer I've ever heard, and the d-- prettiest, too, and I would rather listen to your dithering than to lyre-song, &c., &c.._

And then a line of poetry comparing my face to the sea or my bosom to some sort of wild animal. You are so strange, darling, and you make me so happy, even when it is not really _you_ but a little faux Andie that lives in my mind to keep me company while you are off on those horrid trips. She makes up silly poetry, and reminds me to eat well, and helps me to remember your darling face while I _still_ have no daguerreotype for a visual aid. Imagine me frowning pitifully, now, and tucking a sous into the savings jar, and now you have a little Hélène, too.

Yes, I understood your P.S.. I cannot _dream_ of what my mother would think of you using His words to tease your lover, and a woman lover at that, but it did make me smile. And besides, did not our Lord sup with dishonourable women? Do the two of us fit that description?

Reading back I am reminded that I meant to bore you with empty gossip, so here it is: Miette is moping in your absence and has caught only two mice since you left. I fear if you are gone much longer I shall have to begin hunting them myself while that spoiled cat watches me scamper around with a carving knife. Claude has a new beau, but he won't tell me anything other than that he is indeed quite handsome. I doubt I would concur if I were to meet the man, but then you have spoiled me for other beautiful people. I cannot help but compare them all to you, and consider myself the luckiest girl in the world. Mme S-- is pregnant. I expect it was an immaculate conception, as I cannot imagine Mme S-- ever deigning to let anyone see her naked, though she is purportedly married. Perhaps she insists M S-- keep his eyes closed throughout.

~~I could _never_ stop myself from looking at you.~~

Anyway, darling, I myself am fine, although missing you, and waiting every day for a letter announcing your return journey. Tell that boring old professor to hurry up and educate the whole country, and then send him my sincerest well wishes and gratitude for continuing to employ you. I love you I love you I love you, and I really _did_ enjoy your letter. Perhaps you had better not send another one so brazenly through the post, but I would not object to reading more of your delectable writings on similar matters. Imagine your little Hélène blushing, now, although her complexion prevents one from seeing it well, but you know her enough to tell.

Impatiently waiting--

Your lover and beloved--

H

_(A small pencil drawing is tucked into the envelope with the letter. It shows a dark-skinned woman from the bare shoulders up, hair in a loose bun, smiling so broadly that her eyes squint. An inky pawprint mars one corner. It is captioned in the same steady hand as the letter: "For memory. H.")_


End file.
